New Best Thing
by Ififall
Summary: When Tommy meets Candy, he's spellbound. He can't tame her, but can he convince her to become his second in command?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Title is taken from the song of the same name by Koyotie

* * *

A/N: I've only seen season one!

* * *

A/N: Featuring "Candy" from the TV show pose

* * *

A/ N :Strong Language.

* * *

He walks in. It's just like he expected, plain. White walls, average carpet. He runs a nimble hand through the rack and picks out a red shirt. Red isn't his colour. Maybe he'll give it to Arthur. He goes to the counter and nods. There she is. The fiesty one with a permanent scowl. He walks towards her holding up the shirt. "Cheers" He takes slow deliberate strides. Waiting. She takes the bait.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing!" She runs over.

"Just helping meself"

"Why don't I help you to a kick in the balls?" She yells.

* * *

"Hey you should be pleased the Shelby's are giving ya service"

"Does this look like a fancy white establishment to you? You're in a poor black area, what the fuck did you-"

"I expect good customer service" Tommy said.

Maybe Arthur was right, he warned him about staying away from the black areas. But he was never afraid to meet new people. He'd dealt with the Greeks, the mixed race up and comers, the Indians, the Chinese. Why would he run away from the blacks? They were no different from the others. More connections, more money. That's what he told himself anyway.

* * *

He walks around a little inspecting the place. Across the room he can smell the piss. "Customers making you feel welcome?"

"We both know the answer, pay for the shirt!"

"Nah, I can give you more than money" He says going over to the desk. In the flesh, he's never seen anyone like her up close. Slim, black, dark at that. Chiseled features with her hair twisted into a messy frizzy bun. She was cute, but has way too much make up on for his liking.

"I'll just take the money sweetheart, thanks" She coos.

"Sweet-heart, I'm not paying you shite. You won't get money from us. But, you'll get protection. And you're gonna like it!" Tommy said waving the shirt in her face.

* * *

He strides towards the door, she runs up and grabs him by the arm. He's about to laugh, when his baby blues come face to face with a steel hammer. His heart skips a beat. He smiles at her, before changing his expression to stone. "Don't be stupid darling"

"Pay me!"

"Fuck you"

"Oh baby cakes, I plan to. I'll fuck you so hard, shillings will be leaking out of your dick!" She sneered.

"Are blacks always this funny?" He asked, before she opens her mouth he slides out of the door and into the cab. For the first time in a while they need to have a family meeting. This girl is a live wire and he needs information on her, as much as he needs oxygen.


	2. Agenda

A/N: Very Offensive Language.

* * *

Inquires.

That's all they are at first. He gets his brothers to put the feelers out. Arthur's always the first one to squint at him like he's crazy.

"Don't pull that face. When the wind blows it'll stay that way" Tommy warns.

"I told you to stay away from those areas. Ya wasting your time on poor niggers who've got no fucking business coming anywhere near us!"

Tommy rolls his eyes and sighs. This was his problem. His big brother was stuck in the stone ages. Never willing to change, never willing to try things. That's why he was a number two. Luckily what he said, happened. All Tommy has to do was click his fingers. Say jump and his brothers said how high. Occasionally he day-dreamed about them arguing back and crossing the line. When the voices and poison became too much in his head, his mind went blank.

"This girl, I feel like she's got connections. Ask her about her. I wanna know things" Tommy asks.

* * *

"Like how many punters she's got per day?" John laughs.

"She's a lady until proven otherwise" He said.

It's almost a joy to get stuck into work. Every time his brain slowed down, he thought of her. The way she shook her hips to the radio. The way she grabbed for the shirt. The smile as she launched the hammer in his face, clearly giving no fucks. He liked challenges. He couldn't help it. The crates are supposed to coming today. Pub stuff, cigarette's, clothes, cheap watered down alcohol they can pass off as the real thing. The Invoice is gonna be a pain in the arse, but it's business. He's settling down in bed for a smoke when he gets a call from their uncle Charlie.

"Guys where drunk as fuck. They've picked up the crates. But it's a fucking gun and ammo wonderland over here. Not to mention some loud mouth darkie trying to look in the crates"

"Ya what?"

* * *

"So I'm guessing we wait until Thompson comes back to trade these things?" Charlie says.

"Our loud mouth visitor. Man or woman?" Tommy asks. The guns are interesting, but he needs to find out who's watching them.

"Woman. Could barely see her in the night though, she was as dark as fucking midnight!"

Late at night, facing off with men...he knew what he had to ask. "Was she armed?"

* * *

"Tricky bitch had a hammer, we just laughed her off"

He smiled. Confusion knotted in his head but she's watching them. He's eager to know her agenda and what she's after.

"Why the fuck was she there, do ya think she was spying?" Tommy pressed.

"The crazy mare was shouting about food" Charlie admitted.

Tommy felt a pang of sadness for her. They'd keep the crates, and let Thompson know about the screw up. How long had Candy been going to the crate pick up? Did she go there every night? Every week? month? How long did she have to crouch there, waiting until she got access to a meal. Was she always alone? Who told her about the crates in the first place? He took a long slow drag of the pipe, coughing as the opium clogged his throat.

"You're hungry Candy! So am I" He whispers, putting out his pipe as he gets up to go to the bathroom.


	3. That samaritan feeling

A/N: In this story the Shelby's have electrical house items.

* * *

He shuts the doors of the meeting room.

This is just how he wants it. Just himself the kettle on, and Aunt Poll. The only one he really has to answer to. How does he even start? He fiddles around with the cigarette in his pocket. It's a small thing. But every time he talks about this girl the words feel like bricks stuck in his throat. He shrugs away the warm feeling in his stomach and pours his Aunt a cup of tea without asking.

"Wrong crates have been delivered"

"Why are they wrong?" She asks.

"They've got guns, bullets and ammo. Charlie's in on it" He said, as she glances at him in horror.

"He better be. You're supposed to control your men, you know"

* * *

"You know I keep them on a leash but no muzzles. It's not my fault they got pissed, but it's under control, believe me" He says with a nod. He can tell she still wants to bust his balls, so he changes the subject before she grabs him by the ear and marches him down to the ship-yard herself.

"That girl. That Candy"

"The coloured girl with the big gob?" She mused.

"Yeah. She stops by the ship-yard..." His voice trails off as his Aunt sharply raises her tea-cup.

"Stops by? For what? Fucking tea and crumpets? How long has she been hanging round like a bad smell? You know what? It doesn't matter. I can get our boys there on her road on Pettis street in about half an hour" She says.

It's one of the many reason he loves her. Aunt Poll, always ready, always resourceful. Precise instructions to be carried out by the letter. Times, dates and location, written into her brain like invisible tattoo ink. Nothing ever slows her down from the Shelby orders. No matter how much it hurts or how much blood is shed. She will stand by them all even when the blood gore and guts reaches knee level.

* * *

"Nah, I don't wanna scare her" He adds.

"It's what she needs"

"Something tells me she's used to the usual bullshit"

"Ha! Tom it's just a little roughing up. No fists, just a little faux anger. Then you can wash your hands of her" She comforts.

"Ya heard anything about her?" He wonders. It has nothing to do with his request, but he can't help it.

"Nothing that gives me hot flashes. Should we be worried?" She asks, putting more sugar in her tea. Tommy immediately shakes his head. He knows that she thinks he might be lying. But strangely enough he feels at ease. Candy makes him feel at ease. She makes him want to put the pipe in the bin, turn the radio on, lay on the bed and day dream. Like he did before the war. When he enjoyed Arthur taking the reigns and all John cared about was football.

* * *

"No need to be worried"

"And you're not just blowing smoke up my arse?" Aunt Poll suggested.

"Never" He promised. She smiled because she knew he meant it. "Faux frustration is what we need. This Candy doesn't give a fuck about our imports"

"She won't when I'm done with her" Aunt Poll snorts.

"Poll"

"Don't get your boxers in a twist, the lads won't perv over her. She's not even their type"

* * *

But some men never said never. The harder that Candy fought, for some guys the more it would turn them on, and Tommy would be dammed if he was going to open that Pandora's box. He swore to himself that no men, at least none of his men would plant a target on her back. He slid a hand round the back of his neck, almost tapping the words out. He has to tell her the real reason why she was there.

"No pass the parcel with the lads. I talked to Charlie. She's not looking for information. She just wants food"

He watches his Aunt face harden. Taking one large slurp from the cup before reaching out for his hand with sympathetic eyes. She grabs his hand wrapping her thumb around his wrist.

"We're the Shelby's, not the mother fucking Teresa enterprises" She chided.

"I know" Tommy agreed.

"But she's fucked" Aunt Poll nodded.

"It appears so"

* * *

She obediently goes to the fridge and opens it. Everything's half eaten and looks used. They both know they can't start dumping left overs into a bag. Tommy walks up and closes the fridge gently. He rolls up his sleeves and shrugs his shoulders. Feeling Candy's embarrassment on her behalf.

"I don't know how she's set up. The lads need to get food that can be eaten hot or cold. You go with the lads to her shop. Start with the crate story. Make it look like we're trying to keep her mouth shut" He advised.

"What if she literally throws the food back in our faces?" Aunt Poll asks.

"Then you clear the lads out. Deal with her alone. Woman to woman. Chew Candy up and spit her out" Tommy ordered, going to the table to pour his own cup of tea.


	4. Stranger Shelby's

It's Five AM. Candy and her boss go to the shop to open up. Her male boss goes to the front. She checks out the back. She puts the key in the lock and enters, and runs to the bathroom. She gets her make-up bag out. She takes out her make up brushes and dabbed her face with vaseline. Plucking stray hairs from her eyebrows, she dunked her sponge in the jar, smearing foundation thickly over her face. She was paranoid about spots, among other things. Finally she gets out a big brush and dusts herself with red sandcastles of rouge, coating herself until her cheeks glowed.

"Cand?" Her boss says.

"I'm coming Pray! Just making myself look beaut-" Her words are cut off and _she_ barges through the door. Her boss who she affectionally calls Pray tell, has his arms folded and is staring at the visitors. She follows his stare and glances at the tallest guy in his mid-thirties with the badly cut mustache. The younger guy puffing his chest out, she's sure she can take.

"We don't want any trouble" Pray tell pleads.

"We don't always get what we want honey" Candy says. "Say your piece"

* * *

That's directed at the woman in the middle. She guesses that's their mother? Nearly at their height, dressed in a long brown fur covered coat. Very fancy. Long brown hair decorated with curls, her voice harsh and raspy, which contrasted with the vulnerable intrusive doe eyes. She must have been a looker in her hey day. Hell, she was a looker now. Candy nodded to herself. Maybe she could take this girl out for a drink sometime.

"Boss man" The lady said. "Can you give us a minute?" The older lady said looking at Pray tell.

"I don't think..."

"Pray I got it" Candy said with a determined nod. He went to the back room. While Candy opened her mouth to bomard them with questions. The older woman stepped back revealing bright green shopping bags.

"Presents" She said.

"My mother told me to never take presents from strangers"

* * *

"We ain't strangers. We're the Shelby's" The oldest guy said.

"Name don't ring a bell old man"

"Who the fuck are you-" The man said but was stopped by the woman raising her hand. "Lads" The woman says. They leave and the two woman are left alone. As soon as they're gone Candy instantly relaxes.

"Hi Candy, I'm Polly shelby. Thomas has already introduced himself. He's my nephew"

"I couldn't give an ounce of a fuck who-"

* * *

"Don't play stupid sweetheart. I don't have the time to play guess who. We know you'be been lurking by the ship-yard. Ya need to mind your own business. We've brought you food to stop you from sniffing around literally" Aunt Polly asks.

Candy nods before getting out a thin comb. "Awww...It's sweet Grandma, but I don't need your charity"

"Why would I waste charity on a scrubber like you?" Polly snorted. "This is a friendly warning. Count yourself lucky, the boys are on their best behaviour and I'm not in the mood to ruin this coat. It's designer. Nice shop, who bought it?" She asked.

"Polly be a good little old lady, and mind your own business" Candy smiled.

"Nice to meet you Candy. Lovely American accent you've got there. You don't hide it that well. You're a shitty actress. Enjoy the food. Only pop open the champagne when there's something worth celebrating" Polly advised, giving her a little wave as she left through the back door.


	5. The break in

They needed a horse for the races. He was beautiful. A huge creamy coloured mare. Good stock, no injuries. Positive vibes. Not just because Curly said so. Getting him hadn't been that easy. One minute, they were talking about horse food, the next the gypsies got mouthy. About family. The last thing Tommy heard was" _Diddicoy whore"_. Fists were flying, he was pretty sure he fractured some guys eye ball. It couldn't be helped. They'd been warned about the Lees before. Luckily with the men on the ground cursing in pain, Tommy was able to get the horse home safe and sound.

They'd come in looking like shit. Thankfully Polly wasn't in. Rumor had it there was a new copper on the scene. It made sense to lay low for a while. He told his brothers to take a break. Arthur went to the Garrison while John went home to the kids. Tommy was going to take a bath, he had scratches on his arm and he stunk of sweat and confusion. Plans needed to be changed, about the guns. He opened the drawer and got out his pipe. Inhaling deeply, he put the pipe out and sunk into the mattress.

Dreaming of horses running through smoke, dreaming of the smiles as a new foal was born. One day he'd have a field. He'd have not just Curly but a team of staff. The horses would be healthy, strong. They'd be happy, they'd like people. They'd all be winners that he would keep until...

* * *

"Woah?"

"Tommy wakey wakey. It's me baby cakes" He hears a familiar voice whisper.

Tommy tries to turn, there's a sharp discomfort in-between his legs. He groggliy opens his eyes. Sure enough, it's her, she smiling, but of course she would be, she's currently in control.

"Something tells me, this ain't a friendly visit" Tommy groans.

"That numb feeling is a switch-blade against your balls. I want my money. For that fucking shirt!" She yells.

* * *

"We gave you a boat load of food love"

"Which I wouldn't have to accept if you paid me asshole! Get your lose change!" She barked.

"Fine" Tommy said. "Remove the blade. I wanna move me legs" She removed it and went higher to his stomach. She smelt of baked goods and had her hair pulled back with purple butterfly clips. The leggings looked new, too new for this area and he smiled when he noticed a very welcomed difference. He opened his drawers and got out a few shillings.

"With interest bitch" She snarled.

"Piss off" Tommy chuckled.

* * *

"You owe me for emotional distress"

"You want distress? Live my life!" Tommy snapped.

He watched her place the knife down and pat his shoulder in sympathy. He placed his hand over hers. They were clean. Manicured. She couldn't have been getting them done around here. He pulls her into a hug, nerves pumping through his veins as he kicks the knife off of the bed. He closes his eyes as she runs her delicate hand down his chest, the trauma of the day beginning to fade.

"_My mother's not a whore_" he whispers in her ear.

"What?" Candy asked confused.

* * *

"Get out, before Polly sees you"

"I'm not scared of Polly. She's lovely" Candy said, getting up to get the knife.

"She is. By the way?" He asks.

"Yeah?"

"Wear more bras like this one. The first time I saw you, you were as flat as fuck. Today is an exciting improvement. You look lush" Tommy admires, buttoning up his shirt.

"Shit! Your thieving, arrogant ass is way too pretty for me. I can't punch above my weight. By the way, Billy Kimber says hi" Candy said as she disappeared, trying to get out of the house, as quickly as possible.


	6. Territory

Early family meeting.

One of the, if not the earliest one in history. As usual Arthur is the first one to pop off.

"What in the house? What didn't ya shout us? I would have pulled that Monkey up by her jungle hair and flung her out!" The brothers laugh but Tommy dug a hand in his pocket in frustration.

"Arth-"

"I'm so sick of these ugly useless niggers coming in, with their fucking diseases, their weird food and gorilla noses, coming on to our turf! They need to go back to the sewer they came from! Don't worry Tom. I'll take John, just say the word and we'll show her that she can't come in here! Putting her dirty wog stench all over our house. The bruises might take a while to show though!" He laughed again his younger brothers followed his actions and Tommy clenched his teeth.

* * *

"Enough. You ain't focusing on the real issue" He said.

"I 'am? What? Kimber? We beat the fuck out of her. Drop her outside Kimber's doorstep. Come on John, let's go" Arthur ordered.

"Woah. You're forbidden to go anywhere without my say so. I'll deal with her in my own way"

"When?"

"When I feel like it" He teased.

* * *

"Fuck that! That filthy darkie bitch, broke into OUR house!" Arthur yells.

"Yeah" Tommy shrugged. "And I'll deal with it"

"Will you fuck!" Arthur roared.

Tommy raised his eyebrows and stared him down. "If I find out, you're even in the same post code area as Candy. I'll take this chair, and fling it into your rotting, bleeding head" Tommy said pointing to a wooden stool that their dad had carved out for them years ago. "I'll only say this once. Stay the fuck away from Candy, you too Poll. She's mine" Tommy warned.

* * *

He carried on staring until his older brother broke the stare. As a sign that he'd given in. All the times they'd butted heads, this would a bad time to have bad blood. He needed Arthur sharp for Kimber. Candy wanted to give more information. He could feel it in his bones. He didn't even know that Kimber had coloured staff. The words he'd used around town...well. He was almost as bad as Arthur.

"Enough of the N-words. All the darkie jigaboo and Gorilla shit. Cut it out" He declared as he got out a cigarette.

"Why? I'm not toning myself down for niggers, we don't go near them" Arthur huffed.

"All my friends say it at school" Finn shouts from the doorway.

* * *

"Hey Finn shut that door. Good lad!" Tommy yells as his little brother immediately shuts it.

"See everyone says that shit! Stop being a bitch will ya!" Arthur chuckles..

"Say that again" Tommy asks smoothly. Aunt Poll inserts herself near to Tommy. She can't pull him off, but she'll sure as hell try.

"Well everyone thinks the way I do" Arthur nods.

* * *

Tommy grips the chair so hard that his palms turn red. He stays composed and looks at all three of them.

"Like I've told all of you. John, Art, Aunt Poll. We're not like everyone else. That Nazi, Hitler aryan shit, is going to be a real problem soon. I'll be dammed if your going to poision Finn with that Hitler youth shit. Not on my watch. We're smarter than that. _You_ are smarter than that" Tommy growled. "Our meeting's over"

John leaves. Arthur reaches out to extend his hand to his brother. But Tommy shakes his head.

"Don't be dramatic Tom eh"

"You're turning into dad. More and more by the day. He's eating you alive" Tommy mutters as Arthur walks out of the room and slams the door.


End file.
